Not Okay
by Miss Obsessive
Summary: Wilson is hurt and won't tell House why.  House tries to find out and Wilson resists, as usual.


Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own the characters from House. I'm still a teen-aged spec script writer with no job.

A/N: This was written for a prompt on the sickwilson LJ community, in which one had to use a specific first line. No one dies in this, but it shouldn't be read by anyone who dislikes seeing Wilson in physical and emotional pain.

"Wilson!" For once, House's voice lacked any mockery or sarcasm. He sounded genuinely shocked. "What in God's name happened to your face?"

"Nothing!" Wilson immediately attempted to cover the left side of his face with his arm. Right. That wasn't at all suspicious. House limped as quickly as he could across his apartment and pulled Wilson's arm away, holding it so that he wouldn't try to cover his face again.

Wilson's face was a mess. The left side was was almost completely bruised black and purple, and his left eye was swollen shut. The right side was also bruised, though not nearly as badly. His nose was still bleeding and there was blood on his face from various small cuts. House stared at him for one long second, then grabbed Wilson's other arm and pulled him over to the couch. "What the hell happened!"

"I...ow! House!" Wilson scrambled against House as he was pushed into the couch. House speed-limped to the kitchen and was digging around for a clean towel. Finding one, he stuck it under the faucet, soaking it thoroughly. He made his way back over to Wilson.

Wilson tried to move his head away. "House."

"Hold still." House pressed the towel against Wilson's face, cleaning off the blood. "Who'd you piss off to get this messed up?" He pressed the towel against Wilson's eye.

"Nobody. Ouch! Why can't you leave me alone?" Wilson batted at House's hands.

"What are you, two? Hold still, for God's Sake, or I'll poke your eye out." House moved the towel over to Wilson's nose. Wilson twisted his head, but stopped hitting at House. "That's better. Do you have any other injuries? Your arms obviously aren't broken."

"There are no other injuries. Just my face." Wilson sounded slightly embarrassed.

"Are you sure? Wait, hang on a second." House went into the kitchen and wrapped a bag of frozen vegetables in a towel. He came back and held the make-shift ice pack onto Wilson's left eye. "We should probably go over to the hospital and get you X-rays and a CT scan."

"No," Wilson said firmly.

House stared at him. "That's interesting. Why not?"

"I don't want them to find out. And that's kind of hurting my eye."

"It's supposed to, it's cold." House flipped the ice pack over. "So, it was either something stupid, something embarrassing , or both. So spill."

"Will you leave me alone if I do?" Wilson asked, looking questioningly at House with his one good eye.

House hesitated, then nodded. Wilson sighed. "Okay. Nicky died today."

"The Samson kid?"

"Yes. The boy who's mother tried to kill himself. Nicky had leukemia, and we caught it too late. He lived for six months, longer than we predicted. I went to tell his father, and he kind of freaked out."

House guessed the rest. "He hit you."

Wilson nodded slightly. "Just in the face, and a couple times on the arms when I tried to block him."

"Does Cuddy know?"

"I'm sure Security told her. I was done for the night anyway, so I just came home."

House was slightly shocked. "You drove all the way home like this?"

"I took a cab. Are you going to take that thing off yet?" Wilson asked.

House shook his head. "No." He looked at Wilson. "Why didn't you just go to Princeton General? You could have easily told them that you fell or ran into something."

"I didn't want to," Wilson said, defensively.

"If you thought I was going to let you punish yourself, you were dead wrong," House said. He dropped the ice pack. "Keep holding that to your eye. I'm going looking for antiseptic. And Tylenol, if I have any." Wilson nodded forlornly, took the ice pack, and slumped back.

When he got back, House pretended not to notice that Wilson wasn't holding the ice pack to his eye.


End file.
